@perseusnet​ ··– percy’s birthday week, Day (1): · · · percy + blue We walked on the beach, fed blue corn ships to the seagulls, and munched on blue jelly beans, blue saltwater taffy and all the other free samples my mom brought home from work. I guess I should explain the blue food. See, Gabe had once told my mom there was no such thing. They had this fight, which seemed like a really small thing at the time. But ever since, my mom went out of her way to eat blue. She baked blue birthday cakes. She mixed blueberry smoothies. She bought blue-corn tortilla chips and brought home blue candy from the shop.

— am I a troubled kid? Yeah, you could say that.

@sixofcrowsnet heist: countries ⟶ kerch
… the mighty Kerch, who had ruled the seas and the world’s trade undisputed for so long

WHAT BOUND THEM TOGETHER? Greed? Desperation? Was it just the knowledge that if one or all of them disappeared tonight, no one would come looking? Inej’s mother and father might still shed tears for the daughter they’d lost, but if Inej died tonight, there would be no one to grieve for the girl she was now. She had no family, no parents or siblings, only people to fight beside. MAYBE THAT WAS SOMETHING TO BE GRATEFUL FOR, TOO.

@sixofcrowsnet heist: alarkling
He leaned against the window, and the gilded frame came into sharp focus. “Do you think it would be any different with your tracker beside you? With that Lantsov pup?” 
“Yes,” I said simply. 
“Because you would be the strong one?” 
“Because they’re better men than you.” 
“You might make me a better man.” 
“And you might make me a monster.”

Peter and Lara Jean holding hands in the cafeteria

Buttering a roll, my dad says, “I like Peter.” 
"You do?“ I say. 
Daddy nods. “He’s a good kid. He’s really taken with you, Lara Jean.” 
"Taken with me?“ I repeat. 
To me Kitty says, "You sound like a parrot.” To Daddy she says, “What does smitten mean? Taken by her?” 
“It means he’s charmed by her,“ Daddy explains. "He’s smitten.” 
“Well, what’s smitten?” 
He chuckles and stuffs the roll in Kitty’s open, perplexed mouth. “It means he likes her.”

I’ve never gotten a love letter before. But reading these notes like this, one after the other, it feels like I have. It’s like … it’s like there’s only ever been Peter. Like everyone else that came before him, they were all to prepare me for this.

My arms are at my sides so the jets won’t make my skirt fly up. Peter’s holding my face in his hands, kissing me. “Are you okay?” he whispers. His voice is different: it’s ragged and urgent and vulnerable somehow. He doesn’t sound like the Peter I know; he is not smooth or bored or amused. The way he’s looking at me now, I know he would do anything I asked, and that’s a strange and powerful feeling.

#peter, did you even try

bonus: